Unbidden translated
by Tristana
Summary: As this horrible title says, it's a translation. Gwendal is tense... will Conrad be able to help him? Slash GwenCon. couldn't help myself. Please, R&R!


Note: Thanks to Isamu-Michi and her review, it occurred to me that my commentaries are more of a spoilsport than anything – at long last. I would like to apologize for having written such bothersome thingy - honestly, how you guys went past it without saying anything is... almost beyond me. I guess that those notes are typical of many French writings cracky fics. So now, commentaries are kicked from the story. I hope this is better now. *bows head sheepishly*

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Author: Tristana's dark side

Beta: Who would read this and telling me what's wrong unless I don't name the characters ?

Title: Unbidden (don't ask, I suck with titles)

Anime: Kyou Kara Maou (what else… hum, sorry, George, you're mistaken, this is not some kind of coffee)

Pairing: Just read… Alright, Gwendal/Conrad… Mainly because I am definitely obsessed with the both of them.

Disclaimer: Well, has Murata bed Yuuri? Has Greta disappeared from the plot? Has Anissina started to use Wolf as a guinea pig – or, has she stopped chasing Gwendal? No? Then I don't own KKM, which is a shame! Of course, they are OOC… even if I tried, I couldn't help to write something stupid- (Shut up the two of you, I wasn't gonna say 'I love you'!!!! Silly actors!)

Note: I really like fanfiction, because I can make them appear as crazy as I am.

For yaoi allergics: This is not one's fault if men in anime or manga are that yummy yummy! (thinks of this wonderful 'bathtub's arrival in episode 59… -squee- hugs Gwendal)

Now, this is not a real story… It just popped in my brain (yes, I DO have a brain, incredible, right?)

Oh, and this is a translation from French to english, so, there can be a few differences in my way to phrase something, mainly because I really don't like writing in French, and I hate the way I tend to translate. So just tell me if a sentence looks funny (can be a case of 'word by word' translation).

So, everyone, if you are able to read it in English, please, thanks K-shee(-chan): she was the one who actually asked me if I could translate my french fics into English.

K-shee, thanks again for your reviews and encouragements! I hope you'll like this one!

oOo

Unbidden

He was fed up. Positively fed up with everything! Anything… Has he been used as a guinea pig again? Well, seeing how he tried to avoid Annissina lately, it was not an option. So, he didn't know why, but he was subdued to a rather large amount of pressure. That is to say, he was stressed. He, Gwendal Von Voltaire, was stressed. It was unheard of, especially when you know the man. Ever since this 'thing' with the boxes and the whole Soushu's return mess, he has changed. They all changed… Even if Maou-sitting Yurri was not exactly in his range of activities.

He laid on the bed – something he never does unless it's time to do so. Strangely enough, there were still times when his left eye hurt. Note that regardless this pain, Shinou did this properly.

Not like some Dai Shimaron's morons who had nothing better to do than ripping off said keys… to put them in boxes. He cringed at the thought… it reminded him when Yuuri told them about tin canned meat. The little – optimistic – voice in his brain told him that he was lucky enough that humans never caught him. Else Geigen Huber wouldn't be the only one-eyed mazoku in the family. Sometimes, humans are just… gross, unsubtle creatures. Even if it wasn't the case of most humans, it was still saddening to see that the dumber one is also – most of the time – the commanding one. And if things have already started to change, it was still unnoticeable.

Someone knocked softly. He wasn't really in the mood for a cat and mouse game in the castle with Annissina… Before remembering that Annissina would never knock at his door. So, inhaled deeply before growling a 'Come in' that would have make unwanted characters run away for fear of his bad temper. He felt strangely relieved – or not that much – when he saw that it was Conrad. Well, relieved was a bit strong… Conrad never showed up in his rooms without a good reason. And it often means bad news.

For some time, Gwendal hadn't felt at ease around his little brother… Which was perfectly stupid. He was his brother, after all. There was no reason for him not to trust Conrad. _Sure, but do you trust yourself?_ He cursed himself for the millionth time of the decade, asking what in Shinou's name had he done to deserve such an annoyingly clever conscience. Even so, he grudgingly had to admit that he didn't quite trust himself of late, shall we say. And apparently, Conrad was well aware of that. He might be a hardcore soldier, he was not that willing to die that early. Of course, Conrad didn't use maryoku, but somehow, Gwendal wondered if HE still had some maryoku himself after years serving as a guinea pig for a certain pink haired, lethal inventor. _You think to much!_

"Gwendal?"

"Mmmmm…" came as a reply from a man who wished the other would get the message and go away before he lose control.

"You look horrible… Has Annissina got at you again?"

_If only… _He allowed himself to glance at his younger brother. He was wearing humans' clothes – with impossibly tight pants, at that! – he must have gone to earth with Yuuri. He felt a pang of shame, thinking about how he had tried to avoid Conrad for a while.

"No…" His voice trailed off as he saw concerned hazel eyes staring at him. He thought he saw something else, but he closed his eyes… He was getting crazy, he can felt it! However… They were both adults. The time when one was getting in bed with the other when he couldn't sleep, or to simply try to put an end to this poisoned solitude gnawing at them, was over. Of course, Gwendal did everything for the others to think that he didn't mind being alone, that in fact, he _liked _it. Only he and Conrad knew what was beneath the surface. It was a bit embarrassing to think about it right now, because he knew he acted like a child at that time, because he wasn't a child anymore, and that he could care less. _Here he goes again! Cut the crap, will you? You're probably angsting for no reasons!_

He sat up in his bed, waiting for Conrad to take the first step toward him. He ended up sitting next to Gwendal.

"You too…" It was not a question, merely a statement.

"Yes."

Conrad laid a hand on his shoulder. _Like he did so often… a long time ago._ He turned around to face him and caught a weird glint in his eyes. The same as previously.

"You didn't come to simply inquire about my welfare, did you? What's wrong?" _And don't say 'nostalgia' or else, I swear, I'll definitely lose control!_ It was the first time that Gwendal admitted to himself that he was going to lose himself, no later than within two seconds. But those warm, hazel orbs held him in place. _F… Why is he my brother?_

"True." He was vaguely aware of Conrad's hand touching his cheek. _Retreat!!!_ In fact, the usually coherent, functional brain of Gwendal went away a swiftly as possible, leaving him alone to deal with the remnant of his sanity. (1)

"Gwen…" For years he hadn't called him that. And now, he was angry at Annissina because of some of her thermic inventions ill regulated… It was getting hot quickly – far too quickly – by his standard. (2) "Mmmm?" really, he ought to speak a bit more intelligibly. But it was currently impossible, mostly because he didn't trust his own body to remain still. He was already wrapped up in trying not to be too aware of the palm against his skin.

Conrad leaned toward him. _That's_ _bad, really bad! Conrad, get back before you get molested!!_

"Do you want to talk?" His face was micro-inches from his own. God lord, he was doing it on purpose or else? Those eyes… And those tantalizing lips only millimetres away… And now is the time when Gwendal's brain officially gave up.

He reduced to nothing the distance between them, his lips connecting gently with Conrad's. Said Conrad was rooted on the spot, frozen. Gwendal shot backward, as if a jolt of electricity just hit him, already telling himself that he was ready to commit suicide. Does it hurt, to hang oneself? (3)

"Gwendal?" Here, Gwendal's brain came back in action and tried to make his body reach, safe and sound, the door, thus escaping his doom. He could have done, if it was not for the strong hand that took hold of his sleeve, for the arm that found its way around his waist, thus pulling him closer to the-man-that-will-have-him-going-crazy-for-sure. (4)

"What?" He managed to remain somewhat stoic, even if his voice slightly tremble at the end.

"Why?" _As if I knew it myself! _"You never said anything… Why?"

Sighing, Gwendal leaned in his brother's embrace. "Because it's no use speaking about. Leads to nothing."

This made Conrad chuckled, the laughter echoing in his throat, giving Gwendal the impression that he was actually purring. "How do you know if you never gave it a shot?"

And for the first in nearly two centuries of existence, Gwendal Von Voltaire's eyes went wider than saucers!

Conrad let go of the mazoku, for him to turn around, uncertainty clearly showing in the ocean depths. And for the first time, some kind of fear. Fear of being mistaken, fear of losing his brother, for of-

His brain retired to Caloria when Conrad's lips assaulted his. He would normally have fought… If he were able to deny Conrad something, that is.

"Are you sure?" The three doomed words came out, somewhat raspy and out of place, leading Conrad to take the offensive again. But now, Gwendal was certainly not going to let him get away with it! He was faster than him, caressing his lower lip with his tongue, so slowly that it could as well be labelled as 'sadism', begging for entrance. Conrad soon gave in – even if Gwendal was cheating, using a hand to caress the smooth skin of his torso. On his own accord, his body pushed gently Conrad backward until the back of his knees touched the wooden frame of the bed. They seemed to wake up for a second before drowning back in their fantasy-like world after Gwendal gave him his most feral smirk. Putting his hands on Conrad's shoulders, he accentuated the pressure until he felt the brown-haired man pliant body bending onto the aforementioned mattress. (5) Conrad was no half lying down and Gwendal took advantage of the situation to sit… over the slender hips of his companion. Said Conrad seemed to find this contact both agreeable and frustrating. Agreeable because he already had started to make up some interesting scenario, and frustrating because of those annoying things called 'clothes'.

Smiling – much like the sadist he is – the mazoku thought of nothing better to do than shifting hips on his new plaything's, relishing in the –obvious- arousal of the one beneath him, and in Conrad's sharp intake of breath.

He leaned in, cupping Conrad's face, staring for an instant in the fogged hazel depths before claiming his lips as if his own life depends on it. While their tongue played a savage dance, Conrad managed to slide the dark jacket from Gwendal's shoulders. He didn't mind thought and soon enough, returned the favour, before forcing him back on the bed. Shirts joined the discarded jackets.

Gwendal, not one to let others iniating anything – being friend with Annissina, he had learned that for his sake – if he was the subject of such initiatives, caught Conrad's wrists, maintaining them above his head with a hand, letting the other one wandering on his captive's body, lingering on his flanks and flat stomach before stopping when he reached the waistband.

Dark ocean orbs locked with honeyed ones as he leaned in, gracing the soft skin with butterfly kisses. Conrad was getting tired of foreplay when a wet, hot tongue traced random patterns on his chest, taking in every curves and lines, giving particular attention to his nipples, sucking, nibbling at the oversensitive flesh. The half-human, helpless, couldn't do anything but arching his back, trying to accentuate the pressure. A pleased smirk on his features, Gwendal went southward, arriving in the same place a previously, namely Conrad's waistband. Noticing the heightening arousal of his brother, he positioned himself right on top of him, relying on his elbows not to crush him…

"And what shall we do now?" He purred in the ear of the-man-who-was-his-downfall-but-he-doesn't-care-as-long-as-he-is-his.

"Well, a bit tight, I guess."

"Oh, really?"

"Really. (He paused.) Gwen?"

"Yes?"

"Your hair…" Understanding, Gwendal let go of Conrad's right hand for him to free his hair from the leather tie. Silky, raven-like, strands cascaded on them, caressing both their flanks and face – well, fell right in front of Gwendal's eyes, to be precise. He let his brother play with a soft strand, wrapping it around his hand before pulling him down, crashing his lips on Gwendal's in a kiss that was all but gentle. Unbalancing the topper, Conrad made them roll on the bed so that he was the one on top. To Gwendal's great displeasure, who, practical as always, finally decided that it wasn't THAT bad. The main difference being that Conrad didn't even tried to immobilize his lover, who was free of doing whatever he wanted… namely, getting rid off of those pants getting in the way. Both men had only started to get more comfortable when…

"You sure of what you're saying?"

"Of course, Shibuya, else I wouldn't have been able to convince you that-"

The door was opened wide, giving way to the Maou and so-called Great Sage .(6) Said Daikenja stopped dead in his track, seeing the scene before him – and thanking shadows and light for the reflection on his glasses, thus hiding his eyes. Here were Gwendal and Conrad, sitting on the bed. The former had his shirt, not the latter. Conrad, seemingly, had back problems, since Gwendal gave the impression of massaging his shoulders. Such a scene would have been anodyne, if it was not for their jackets and Gwendal's shirt lying on the floor – and for the fact that Gwendal hadn't his hair tied in his back as usual. Not to forget the somewhat sheepish look on Conrad's face – and the frustration painted on Gwendal's feature.

Of course, the Maou was totally impermeable to these kinds of signs and was already beginning to talk about work when:

"Your Majestyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!" The war cry of the hunting Günter was heard somewhere in the corridor. Yuuri sighed, and resigned himself at being nearly strangled. He thus went out hastily, ready to run for his dear life – though he managed to blurt out an apology of some kind before starting running as fast as he could, purchased by his invading advisor.

"Looks like we'll have to come back later." Murata sighed heavily. "Sorry for the interruption."

"It's nothing." Muttered both men as the door closed in on Murata. Who was wearing a knowing smile, as well as a weird glint in his eyes – the kind of glint shouting 'Bad Omen.'

While Murata was telling Shinou about the last gossips, while Conrad and Gwendal had thought of locking the door and while Yuuri was still trying escape Günter…

"Awwwe, they're so cute!"

"Sure… It's ten bucks!"

"Meany!"

"Perhaps, but I was the one saying they'd end up together."

"Well, anyway, I'm right…"

"True, those two…"

"Who?"

"His Majesty and the Great Sage, what question is that?"

"You sure?"

"Well, if you don't believe, we still can spying on them."

"Yesssss!"

And with this, three yaoist servants went away in the maze of Blood Pledge Castle, looking for proves.

oOo

Here you are! I hope I didn't make that many mistakes… sheepish author hiding self behind her chair

Anyway, I hope you like! R&R, please? I know you're nice! squee

(1) I have to admit it... I paid Gwendal's brain.

(2) And surely enough, it's her fault if your pants got too tight...

(3) In french, to say about someone that this person 'ne manque pas d'air' means that this person is too full of herself.

(4) This is entirely the fault of Mister-Voldy-who-don't-anyone-to-pronounce-his-name-so-that-it-takes-even-more-spaces-to-write-about-him-in-the-newspaper-only-because-he-thinks-that-the-longer-the-title-the-better-but-it-really-sucks-when-you-have-to-read-it-aloud-because-you-can't-catch-your-breath. Pfffffiou, don't ask me to say that again.

(5) Unless you are Harry Potter, it's better to have the bed already in the room. Of course, you can try on the floor, but they didn't want to... I will ask Vyvy, next time.

(6) Personally, I'd be keener on calling him: Evil Master of the Perverted Minds, but that's just me.^^


End file.
